Five times Nyota refused to be saved
by SarahBelle
Summary: ...and two times when she saves herself. K/S with a lot of bitterness and anger on our girl's part.
1. One

**One**

* * *

She had not made a fuss. She had not made anything. When Spock had told her of his choice and asked for her forgiveness she had told him that he was free to do as he wished and that she wished him well. Spock had told him that she had also, without any fuss, removed his access to her room, and never came to his again. All very quiet and dignified.

She was too quiet. In the first few months she had occasionally sung on the bridge, nice songs, sweet songs about all sorts of things. He had never known that she was such a good singer until she began, until she stopped. He missed her songs, but it wasn't as if he could order her to start singing again. He could order her to do a lot of things, but not that.

He tried to draw her out, heavens aplenty knew they all tried. She responded a bit to the others and that was encouraging, but not with Spock and certainly not with him. He'd teased her as he'd done in the academy days, trying to get a rise out of her, but she would not be riled. She was polite, she was courteous, sometimes she even smiled, but she was not herself. She was not Uhura. She was not Nyota.

It was upsetting Spock. He knew through that link mind thingamajig, he could never truly define what they had, whatever they had. Spock felt guilty, he'd been Uhura's friend before he'd been her lover and he could tell when she was unhappy, which was what was happening and how in this case. He wanted to do something but it seemed that Uhura wouldn't let him. She'd claimed to his First officer and to McCoy (and he felt a little bit of envy that she'd opened up to _him_, of all people) that she'd wanted to get through this in her own time. That was all well and good, but staying so unhappy wasn't doing her or anyone else any good. Perhaps it would be better if…

He didn't know how she'd heard the tentative suggestion that Spock had considered – perhaps it might have been better if he'd immediately shot it down but he hadn't, he'd looked thoughtful and maybe she'd seen that as well - but she had. The look she had given him when he'd come onto the bridge had made him want to run and hide behind something. It was anger but more than that…hell, Spock would have a better chance of defining all the roiling boiling things in that brown glare of hers. If she'd spoken to him at that moment, which she didn't do, nor would she ever do again to either of them unless she had to, she'd have said something like 'Just _try_ it, just _try_ to get rid of me, if I go I'll take some bit of you with me, count on that, you bastards.'

He'd fucked it all up, truly and completely. This was worse and nothing, _nothing _they could do would make Uhura come back out of this new ice queen now.

* * *

"_Perhaps_ _we should transfer her, Spock? It would be better for all of us." _

_And you didn't say no at once. You looked as if you were considering it. You looked as if you wanted it. That's how little I mean to you, that you can take another dream and throw it in the mud and stamp on it a couple of times and do all sorts of other things to it that don't exist but still hurt._

_I'm not going to say a word. I'm not going to let you have that, none of you. I'll never say a word. I'll never say or do anything to let them have their way. But when I'm far away from the both of you and your telepathy and the bond I can't scream but I can think as loud as I can, Fuck you, James T. fucking Kirk, and fuck you oh Spock son of Sarek, fuck both of you, and all of you go fuck each other all you want, because I'm not going away just because you don't want me any more._

* * *


	2. Two

For all that they were an emotional species, humans were quite adept at channelling their many discords into other areas than their expressions. Nyota had, logically, found a new one. He watched as she downed another Cardassian Sunrise and smiled at the bar tender. Curious how a creature far more emotional than he could not see how very empty that smile was.

He noted that she was paid particular attention to by a certain male of human and rather dubious appearance, fashionably attired but appearing to have done so for some reason other than to simply look good. He watched as he attempted to perform an act that Dr McCoy called 'reeling them in', and was pleased to note that Nyota, though flattered, apparently refused to be reeled, at least for now. She appeared to be happy and this was an improvement on her condition in the past few weeks, but he suspected that true happiness could not be found with this individual.

When she excused herself for a moment he made his way over to the man, and was rewarded with his reaction to an obvious member of Starfleet as opposed to Nyota's relatively casual attire. "I have noticed that you have paid undue attention to my colleague. I do not approve of such actions; you will cease to converse with her and you will not seek her out again." Fortuitously the man seemed to be somewhat of a coward and put up no real protest before he fled, though not without giving him a look that rather echoed one he had given Nyota whenever her attention was elsewhere. It was just as well that he had done so; such an acquisitive gaze could have meant no good for either of them.

He waited for her to return so that he could explain his reasoning and endure the wrath that would surely come. She would experience a catharsis, relief, and since she was off duty and because her anger would be born for a logical reason she would not be reprimanded. Then she would be released from these invisible chains and be a free floating star once more.

She approached. She looked from him to where the man had been standing and back. "Commander, do you know where my friend went?" Her voice was as it had become and which was not her at all. There was no Nyota in there.

"I was suspicious of his conduct towards you, and indeed towards myself when I encountered him. Such a person might not be healthy towards your person."

Now, surely now she would tell him that he had no right, ask him who the hell he thought he was, that she didn't need him to protect her and he wasn't her watchdog.

"I see. Thank you, commander." And she walked away from him, into the crowds of the bar. It was illogical. Worse, it had solved nothing.

He did not see her again for fifty five minutes and forty six seconds , at the end of which he received a transmission from the ship that stated Lieutenant Uhura had called for emergency backup. Her location was currently twenty metres from the entrance to the bar, and when he arrived – with even more hurry than might be expected of him in such a situation – he found her acquaintance of earlier curled into a ball with his hands bound to his ankles by his own belt and Nyota tending to an unconscious Ensign Pavel Chekov's forehead with a tenderness that had become so foreign in her as to be unsettling.

That tenderness was gone when she reported that she had witnessed the man 'reel in' Chekov and then drug him, carry him outside as one would with a drunk and begin to make a call to an operative about his newest acquisition and that he might snag a Vulcan to add to the order, with any luck; clearly he was in league with Orion traders. McCoy would later report that what he termed as the gentleman's 'family jewels' were so swollen they were like stop lights and that Uhura sure had one hell of a kick.

"You could have been seriously injured or captured, Lieutenant. I am surprised that you did not call for backup immediately rather than choosing to apprehend him yourself. You might be reprimanded for such an act." Could she not tell even with so much anger swamping her how much danger she had put herself in? How she might have endangered herself and her career? How worried he had been for her? How worried he was still??

"I was off duty, Commander. Can I be reprimanded at all?"

Clearly Nyota did not care.

* * *

_He was going to take Chekov. He might have taken me if I'd let him buy me a drink._

_He was going to take you and hand you over so that you could be someone's sex toy or slave or fetish. A rare prize Vulcan. _

_The bastard was even beginning to type up your sales description. Your fucking sales description, as if he'd already got you, when no one can have you but that perfect, fated one._

_We can't have that now, can we? We really can't. We can't have First Officer Spock of the star ship Enterprise have such a base thing happen to him as to be kidnapped by a shit like him. We can't let Captain James T. Kirk lose his First Officer. His Communications Officer, perhaps, he'd be shocked but he wouldn't be horrified. He _might_ fight tooth and limb to get me back, but he'd tear off limbs, his own limbs, for you. And when we beam back he'll try to thank me but I won't let him and all the while he'll be thinking 'Thank God she acted when she did, what if I'd lost him, what if I'd lost you.' He could lose me, though he'd look sad and maybe even be a bit sad, but he could never lose you._

_Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Fucking fuck._

_I wish that I'd kicked harder. I wish he'd at least put up a fight. It was so easier, one boot and he went down. I wish I'd kicked him so hard everything on the outside went inward. I wish I'd had the chance to remove at least one extraneous part of him. I know just which bit I'd choose._

_Why do you still care, Spock? Can't you just not feel anything for me anymore? Why couldn't you just let me be? You shouldn't care. If you were logical you wouldn't. Why do you still care? _

**Apologies for continual use of that one particular swear word considering that our girl probably knows quite a few curses ; when I swear mentally I generally chose one word and roll with it.**

**Thanks to TeaOli for mentioning this in her newest story; go and read it, it's awesome!**

* * *


	3. Three

It wasn't long after that rather memorable shore leave that he ended up tending her instead of someone who'd been on the receiving side of her wrath. There had been that attack by a Klingon cruiser, they were damn lucky that it had just been as much of a misunderstanding as it could be under the circumstances and miraculously there were no serious injuries, but Lieutenant Uhura was one of the ones who trooped into sick bay with a bleeding forehead.

"This is bad. Good god, woman, you could have keeled over while coming down here! Didn't anyone on bridge offer to help you get here instead of just sending you off?"

She didn't answer that, and he could just bet that at least two up there had offered but that she had refused their aid. As she always refused everything from them nowadays. This was getting ridiculous. There were times when he wondered why exactly Jim had been after this girl for so long, or why both of those two were still so focused on trying to get her to talk to them, to look at them outside of duty. And then he always figured: guilt on their part, outrage on hers. And he had to admit, the way they'd handled this mess did rather mean that the poor girl's heart had been all but torn out and thrown in the mud and stamped on a couple of times. Then he could understand why that cool but affectionate woman had grown into this person who wouldn't let anyone else help her. Even when she'd let him look at her head she'd kept quiet apart from answers of precisely one syllable and looked continuously at the far wall. He tried to draw her out, draw her out some more, and when that didn't work and he had finished dressing her wound and she was about to hop down and mooch out of there and go back to brooding about the ship until she drove everyone besides herself crazy, he decided to be what he was best at: blunt.

"Uhura?" She actually looked at him; it was a start. "You wanna talk about it?"

"About what, doctor?"

He wasn't going to be deflected by those big brown eyes, hell no! "About the fact that that green blooded icicle you've been with for I don't care to guess how long coldly and logically dumped you – don't shake your head like that, you know that's what he did and it won't do your injury any favours – for a guy who's been chasing you about the academy for three years." He didn't want ot know how it felt to have someone who seemed so interested in you all but cast you aside when another prospect came along. "About the fact that you won't talk to or even look at either of them unless you have to? About the fact that you're, quite frankly, miserable, and astonishingly you're managed to make both Kirk and Spock miserable as well, which is a big achievement but an achievement we could well have done without. So." He set down the last hypo. "Talk."

She looked at him, to his side, away, then back to him. "Did either of them put you up to this?"

"What? No! I don't do everything on orders, dammit, Nyota! Can't I ask about you just because I'm worried?"

At him, to his side, away, back. "I don't try to make them miserable. I don't try to make them anything."

"But you're doing it anyway, Nyota, can't you see?"

Him, away, back. "I can't talk about this, doctor. Not to you." She looks as sorry as she can, now. "Because you're too close to them, and I'd always be thinking that you were doing this because they wanted you to, even though you said…or because you're doing it for _them_ and not for me. Never for me." And she turned and walked away before he could tell her that it wasn't just them, or offer her someone else to counsel her, or give her anything that would make what had happened between those three hurt and moulder and decay just a little less.

He sent her messages in the days afterwards and she always replied very soon after they'd been sent, always very polite, very grateful and very much in the negative. No, she did not need to talk about this. No, she did not need any counselling. No, she was not interested in perhaps doing something to relieve her stress, because she had no stress. She was fine, just fine.

In a pig's eye, she was.

* * *

_Why can't Leonard leave me alone? Why can't he just do that? Can't he leave me be? They've at least learned to do that, why can't he?_

_I want to talk to him. I know I shouldn't, but I do. He might understand. But he might not. He might be like them. What did Spock say, that they were always a trio? So he might be sucked into this whole stinking conspiracy as well. _

_I'm being stupid. Worse than that, I'm being more than stupid. If they think I'm unfit for service they might send me away. They can't. They can't do that to me. But would it be so bad, if-_

_No. They're _not _sending me away. I don't care if I make them so fraught with guilt they can't even rise to the task because they're too busy thinking of me. But I don't want that, that's not fair, it's, I want-_

_I want to stay here. This is _my_ place, _my_ ship, and they can't take that away from me in any universe. No matter how many trios and _t'hy'la's _are repeated, again and again._

* * *


	4. Four

**Disclaimer: Don't own. Yay.**

* * *

When he approached the table at which she sat, he was aware of a decrease in conversation about him. They watched him as he watched her.

What made the most impression was that she was alone. The she that he knew was never alone in all the time that he had known her. In the mess hall she was surrounded by her friends, on the bridge she talked and gossiped and even sang. This Uhura sat by herself, her hair pulled back from her face so tightly it looked as if it hurts, and her solemnity was of a different sort. She chewed her mouthful without any enjoyment apparent on her face.

Jim had been uneasy; he had not mentioned her by name. Perhaps he could see why.

She did not look up as he stopped at the edge of the table. How to begin the conversation-

"I'm not interested, Ambassador." She never even looked up from the PADD she was viewing. There was nothing there apart from words, no emotion at all.

"Are you even aware of what you are not interested in, Lieutenant?"

"Oh, I am. Go away. Sir."

An argument, a debate, he is used to such things. He has learned when to back down and when to stand his ground. There are no clues provided here, but he elects to choose the latter and sits down opposite her. Again she speaks before he has a chance, lower now. "I told you, I'm not interested. _Spock."_

One such as he was not often startled. Intrigued, fascinated, but not startled. It did not pay to show shock, so he did not now. _"You discovered my true identity?"_

"You have to admit, a Vulcan called, quite literally, 'Elder' is rather curious. But I didn't discover it. It wasn't as if I was trying to find out. I happened upon it by accident." Her grasp of the Vulcan language is impeccable, no doubt because of the tutor she was supposedly blessed with. She still had not looked at him, quite rude gesture depending on which species you were talking to. "Along with other things. Now go away."

"You are conflicted."

"Well done, Sherlock. Go. Away."

She wanted to talk, he could tell, but he must draw it out. "Is the reason for this the current relationship between my counterpart and the captain?" Make each one un-incriminating to any who might understand sparse words of the conversation.

At last she looked at him. It was as if he had slapped her in the face. It was not the reaction he wished for. And then she smiled, and he was surer than ever that this was not the Uhura he knew.

"All right, Spock son of Sarek, you asked for it." She put the PADD down, hard. "No, my current lack of good humour is not just because my former lover is now sleeping with our dear, wonderful captain. It is because they are doing it simply because you, Spock, suggested that it would be a good idea. To quote: 'After a time, my life was not my own any more, nor was Jim's. We had exchanged our lives, and we had not even touched'. Very romantic. _Touching_."

"How did you learn of that?"

"A little glitch in the communications system. A whole mass of messages from you to Kirk and the other you got dumped into my file, somehow. Strange how things turn out. Before I was going to delete them, I read one. I was angry, upset, thought I'd let my anger out by snooping a little. Just a little. So I read one. And then I went on reading, because I'm something of a glutton for punishment." She was very talented indeed, to translate that last phrase into this tongue.

"I am in this state, Spock, because I am having to reconcile the man I loved and the man I at least gained some respect if not a whole load of affection for, with two people who decided to follow the suggestions of a selfish, manipulative man who couldn't bear the fact that not everything in this universe is the same as the one he left.

"No, you _don't_ get to interrupt, Spock. Not now. You asked for it and you're going to _get_ it. Frankly, I'm amazed you had the gall to come here and try to engage me in conversation, just like you've been doing to Sulu and Chekov and McCoy and Scott all the while you've been here, making sure I'm playing my part and doing what you want. Hell, why don't you just go down to Christine in sick bay and make her have a hopeless crush on him?"

There were tears starting in the corners of her eyes. "It was never my intention to hurt you, Uhura."

"Nyota. But of course that means nothing to you, doesn't it? Because I _was_ nothing in that other universe; just someone who smiled and sang and manned the communications and was pretty in the background while you exchanged meaningful glances with your Kirk. _Your _Kirk, not this one. And stars forbid I should try to come in the way of the greatest love in the universe; I need to be gotten out of the way.

"Is that how you see me, Spock? Is that how you see all of us? Not real, not until we're set in the pattern that you want? Couldn't I have been allowed to try with him, or was that too much for a copy to want?"

She stood, picking up her PADD once more. "I'm not her, Spock. And I'm not a thing that resembles her and can be discarded because I don't fit the perfect equation. I am myself. And I am not willing to fill her role. So I won't adore the captain, and I won't tease the other you without expecting anything more, and I will not sing and I will _not_ be her. And I won't like you, Ambassador Spock. Perhaps you came here to befriend me, to make it all better. Well, if you approach me again after this except in an official manner, I will simply ignore you, because you can't have everything in this new setting you've carved for your own stinking pleasure. You get the chance to touch yourself while thinking of them going at it ten years sooner than they should have done, and I get threats of being reassigned. I don't want to be friends with you. I don't want to know you. I want you to stay away from me."

And she turned to walk away, but stopped. He was not so lost in his own sea of everything that she had said that he could not notice what was dripping from between her legs and staining the back of her skirt.

"Oh now," and she turned her head back and sighed, as if it were all so very trivial. "Look what I've done."

_

* * *

_

_I didn't_ know,_ okay? I thought that the stress and anger was making me throw up and feel ill. I'm surprised McCoy didn't pick it up before. So excuse me for not noticing or realizing that the man who left me for our captain also left some of his DNA mixing with mine in my uterus, although obviously the mix just wasn't a success._

_Fuck, though, striking out at that slimy bastard felt so _good_._

**

* * *

**

Of course, canon more or less states that only a relationship that has a bond can produce a child between Vulcans. I plead that Spock is half human. Since I've heard that Vulcan pregnancies last far longer than human ones do and thus means that the foetuses take longer to form, I don't find it too unfeasible that Uhura's body would take two or three months to try developing the embryo beyond a very basic level before deciding 'Okay, this just isn't working, game over man' and literally flushing the project. Of course this is science fiction, it might work and it might not; science has proved that this kind of conception would be impossible to carry off in real life anyways, etc etc. Sorry if I get it wrong. I'm the disinterested offspring of two medical professionals, not a doctor!


	5. Five

McCoy had, to quote a phrase, turned the air blue with curses when the Ambassador had rushed Nyota into sick bay.

"I should have known. God _dammit_, I had her in here about a week ago, with a head wound! I should have picked it up! Why didn't I?"

She had left him to rant and rave and beat himself up – she had learned not to get in the way of his self-flagellation at times like this, she left that to the captain and the first officer, conveniently with him now – and went through the door of her room to Nyota's bed side. She hadn't wanted to stay. "Just clean me up and send me off to work, doctor." That was what she had said. As if she hadn't just lost her child in a rush of green and red mixed to brown. As if she hadn't been betrayed in yet another, unintentional way.

"Chris, please tell Len to stop blaming himself. I'm blushing here."

"Believe me, I've tried. You know it never works."

"Yeah."

"So."

"So."

"Couldn't you tell?"

"No. I was only sick about once or maybe twice, and I just thought that was from stress and general, you know, self loathing and loathing of others and so on."

"Oh, _Ny." _She wanted to take her hand, but she really didn't know if the woman in bed would dart away, or hold herself stiff or still, or scream and lash out at her. She didn't dare to try.

"Funny, isn't it? I was a more appropriate mate for him all along, because I can actually reproduce. Only whoops, no, I can't after all."

"Nyota, don't talk like that."

"Oh, but I'm getting to _like_ confessing. Shall I tell you something else? I'm actually feeling guilty because I don't feel anything. What came out of me wasn't a baby, it was a mess of cells. An experiment gone wrong-"

"Don't, honey, please don't!"

"-it wasn't mine. I don't feel anything for it, it wasn't mine, it wasn't his, it wasn't _anything-_"

"Stop it or I'll slap your face off."

Silence. Even McCoy's shouts had stopped. Probably they were all listening in. Please, god, Ny sweetie, don't break down sort of in front of them, _please._

She looked tired now, perhaps just a little sad. "I should have realised sooner. If I'd gotten the right nutrients in time, perhaps it wouldn't have been rejected, or it would actually have gone somewhere at all."

"Nyota, you couldn't possibly have known that this would happen."

"I should have, Chris. That's my job. That's all our jobs." Hand touched hand. "Keep them out, all right? Except for McCoy, obviously."

"Are you sure, Ny? Are you really sure?"

"Yes."

Why couldn't she just _forgive_ them already? That was the whisper on the ship. They were both sorry, after all, they'd apologized, everyone had shown her infinite fucking patience in this matter, they hadn't done anything _wrong, _per say. But if Nyota, _Nyota,_ refused to forgive, then there was more to it. And she was in the right, and the captain and the first officer, no matter what they though or told themselves, were in the wrong, and deeply at that.

"Okay. Okay. Get some rest, Ny."

Back to the door, through it. McCoy had quietened down and was staring at the samples he'd takendfrom that sad mess carried to the sick bay bundled in the Ambassador's cloak, carried in the arms of Spock. The Ambassador himself wasn't there but the captain and his first officer still were. Kirk didn't even try to smile at her; if he had she'd probably have ripped his face off. He looked miserable. So did Spock.

_Good._

"She's much better now, doctor. She doesn't seem to be in any great state of shock."

"She doesn't?"

"No." Knowing she should always tell the truth, she admitted, "She did admit to feeling nothing concerning the foetus itself, which might be indicative of latent shock."

"She doesn't care that she just lost her _child_?" Kirk had the nerve to sound scathing. She had to look at him.

"Considering that she didn't know about its existence until today, it's reasonable for her to have such an attitude."

"She did not know?" This time it was Spock who spoke, looking even worse if that was at all possible.

"No." She longed, oh how she _longed _to say 'Perhaps she had something else on her mind'," but that was insubordination and would do nothing for Ny.

"Can we see her?" How thick _was _Kirk, anyway?

"I am afraid I must forbid it."

"Why? You said she was better."

"To be frank, captain, she doesn't want to see _either_ of you."

Kirk said a _very _rude word and turned half away. Spock didn't swear, but he looked as if he were in the mood too. She caught hints of muttered words like stubborn as Kirk actually clasped his head. "Why is she doing this? _Why?"_

"To know that, we would have to ask her. But I doubt that she would answer. She hates us. All of us." Somehow Spock's words, not shouted or muttered but stated with simple resignation were worse, the very worst that could be said. The captain looked up, and he looked desperate.

"Then maybe it's time to go back to the start of all this. We need to find Old Spock, and fast."

_Old what? _


	6. Alive

**Disclaimer: I don't own any part of Star Trek.**

**I've been waiting a while to write this. Because, in the end and as the character sections suggest, this is really Nyota and Spokc Prime's story. The prose does get a bit confusing in this chapter because the stupid document format won't let me do it the way I wanted, please bear with it.**

**Also, a Dune phrase, one I particularly love.**

* * *

"Nyota?"

The old man looks at her. The young woman looks at him.

"May I approach?"

"Go ahead. It's not as if I could stop you."

He comes forward, stops by her bed. Opens his mouth, for one of the few times in his life does not know what to say, closes it again. Opens it again.

"I grieve with thee."

She looks at him. She knows how to read him, even if she did not learn from him. "It wasn't your fault. McCoy says it wasn't stress or anything, my body just couldn't make it go any further, it had to reject it. He thinks it might have been a girl."

"A girl. Ah, a girl."

"I wish…I wish that I felt more. I've seen what came out and I just, I can't feel anything for it. Our child, our baby, and I can't feel anything for that mess. I'm so fucked up."

He sees her give water for her dead child because she does not feel anything for it.

"Do not cry, Nyota."

"I'm _not _bloody crying. And what gives you the right to call me that? I've told you, I'm not your Nyota. Leave me alone."

"Nyota, it is true that I do not have that right, but I will call you such nonetheless. And I will not see you destroy yourself. You will not let Jim or Spock help you?"

"No. I can't, can't you see that? I'm trying to keep away from them, because I'm so poisonous. I ruin everything."

"Then let me help."

"You?" Incredulity. _"You?" _An exclamation near a howl.

"I ask you to meld with me. Let me take your pain. Let me take it away."

"I…no. I, I w_ant _my pain. If I didn't have it I wouldn't have anger and then I'd just lie down and let them package me off and send me away! Spock, I don't know what to _do!_"

"Then let me share it. Let me ease your burden. Let me see."

"There's a lot of emotion in here, Ambassador, and everything that's directed towards you isn't very friendly."

"Then let that be my punishment."

"I can't do that to you. I don't want to hurt you."

"Don't you?"

"Maybe, but not in a way that would leave you catatonic. I wanted you to be aware, not disabled."

"I am a hundred and fifty five years old, Nyota. I have experienced many things. If I break under your storm, then it is because I should. Nyota? Give me your hand."

"All right. I've done this before, with my…our Spock."

"Yes, I see. There. There I-"

_A trickle a gush a rush a flood of everything. Two lives flowing through them both. _

_The first tide a familiar Vulcan childhood. The second growing up in Kenya, Tanzania._

_Mother, father, no friends, logic, love. Mother, father, sisters, friends, language, love._

_Starfleet- Starfleet- _

_They branch away from what one of them knows and into what the other lived._

_Science officer under Christopher Pike. Met Spock as an instructor when arrived there._

_Travelled, explored, found danger- Learned, experienced, came to love-_

_One life is shorter, the other life races ahead. This Spock serves under Pike, and then when Pike leaves here comes Kirk, and it begins. At first hidden apprehension, then approval, respect, admiration, loyalty, greater loyalty, incorruptibility. _

_The other one is there in the background, older and wiser, wry and witty, singing songs as he accompanies her and trying to draw close but soon repulsed. _

_That hurts._

_You…she did not mind. She had others._

_Spock comforts Kirk when his brother dies. Nyota embraces Spock when his world is gone._

_Kirk and Spock. Their names are talked of, scorned, admired, revered. Spock, Jim. They have adventures that they might not now have, visit myriads of worlds. _

_Spock is called back home, back to his He tells her of T'Pring, and how when he came to_

_faithless fiancée; how cruel she is to Earth she rejected him. He did not object, he felt even_

_abandon him to the fires! She makes him less for her than he should. He is free to be open to _

_fight his captain! He kills Jim! His _Jim! _grow closer to her._

_Jim smiles and calls his name when he sees he has not._

"Captain? Jim!"

_Such joy. She never gave him such joy._

_But then they break apart. The mission is finished, Then they break apart. The hold is over, Spock _

_Spock is confused, frightened, he goes to purge is confused, focused on something else, he tells_

_himself, Jim goes broken back to Starfleet to sit her…so many things. He does not want to break _

_behind a desk. Spock. Kirk. They are not whole her, but between Kirk and he they broke her _

_when separate, they constantly reach out to each anyway. _

_other. _

_A threat to the world brings them back. Her rage and hurt keep her away. _

_Spock holds Kirk, Jim's hand. _T'hy'la.

The _feeling _rips at her tear ducts.

His fingers tighten on her head.

_Now, Nyota. Now I will show you what even they do not know. _

_Bam. The engine room of a ship. In a sealed compartment looking out, breath difficult. Kirk, Jim, much older but _Jim, _tries to run to him but is kept away by the compartment wall. Jim. Have to know. Up is agony, but _up. _Ask him. _

_Jim's all right._

_It's safe._

_I can die._

Die?

_He came after me. Brought me back. _

_They see. _

_But his _son! _Kirk, Jim, had a son and then lost him._

_Oh, Jim._

_More. They heal each other. Love. So much love. How can there be so much love in these two lives? Their lives are not their own, they have exchanged them. Beloved, I cherish thee- _

_It strikes from behind, treacherous, attacks, The email cracks her something she thought was_

_mugs, kicks and clubs. invincible. It tears at her guts, at her heart._

Jim! T'hy'la! Jim! How could you? How _could _you do that, to _me?_

_No. Oh, no. No._

She holds him in her arms as their foreheads touch, his tears falling on her.

_Such loss. Nearly a hundred years of loss. Oh, Spock. _Spock.

_But you, Nyota! Such pain, such betrayal! How can you bear it? Your child! Your _daughter_, oh-_

_Your love, your life. You had so little time! So unfair! So cruel!_

_S_t_o_p_. P_l_e_a_s_e_, s_t_o_p_. L_e_t _m_e _g_o, _o_h _l_e_t_ m_e_ g_o_, I _c_a_n_n_o_t _b_e_a_r i_t_, w_h_a_t_ h_a_v_e_ I _d_o_n_e _t_o _y_o_u_, w_h_a_t _a_m_ I _t_h_a_t _I_ c_o_u_l_d _d_o _t_h_i_s? _L_e_t_ m_e_ g_o_, l_e_t _m_e _g_o_!

_No! No! Stay, Spock, stay. Let it go. Let it all go._

_Stay, Nyota, shining star. Give the pain to me. Let it go._

The old man weeps. The young woman cries. They stay this way for a very long time. Two young men peer in at them.

She hiccoughs. "I'm still really angry, though. At all three of you. You especially."

"Understandable." His voice is hoarse.

She looks over the two by the door. "I hurt you. I know that. I'm sorry. But you hurt me too, and worse, and first. I promise, I'm going to get better. Now go away. Not you, Spock." She holds onto him, tight. "You stay awhile."

He stays until she falls asleep, and even then she's holding on so tight it is like to a death grip. The old man sleeps on the young woman's breast.


	7. Saved

**Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Star Trek. Not even the new one.**

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**This is the second to last chapter. What inspired me to write it more quickly than the others is because, to my surprise, it's sparked off two stories, Choices by Amaranth01 and Nyota chooses her destiny by Anon-ee-mouse: both alternate versions of chapter six. Give them a look, they're both brilliant!**

**However, I'm also surprised and rather taken aback at the reaction to that chapter. I realise it probably wasn't as good as it could have been, and I wouldn't have minded the feedback at all, but I honestly didn't think people had that much of a problem with it. It's rather strange to know that people have rather big peeves with this story and are talking about them but _haven't_ told me what I might have gotten wrong. So please, if you _don't_ like it, _tell me so_; I won't mind, constructive criticism is a good thing! This isn't a very good story and it gets worse as it goes on, it needs all the constructive critcism it can get!**

**Edit: Everyone, I deeply apologise for the above thing, I was rather stressed when I wrote it and was thinking about how everyone has more than one point, chapter six was really OOC now that I looked at it again. Also that I've sort of un-manned Spock, slightly. The trouble is, I don't quite know how to save Nyota. Saving a cheerleader is easy compared to this. :( xx**

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_

I watch him wake up in the chair that Chris put him in. He doesn't wake up like Spock, not quite. He's older. Perhaps he's more comfortable with who he is than Spock. He yawns a tiny bit. Spock never does that.

_He pushes himself up. He looks around. He sees me._

_We look at each other._

"_Chris woke me up so that she could pull you off me. She said I was severely close to getting squashed."_

"_Vulcans do have a denser bone structure." Humour in his voice, a kindly old grandfather. Yeah, right._

"_Yeah." I've been thinking about what to say to him. I think I've got it right. "Before I say anything else, let me say that you doing that mind meld was profoundly stupid, and the only reason I agreed to it was because I was probably high on drugs. If you ever try to do that again, do it when I'm in the right mind to say no."_

_The humour's gone now. "It was necessary. Words could not explain what I had to say."_

"_It was still stupid. What with the state we both were in, we could have scrambled our minds."_

"_There was a small chance of that." Spock ,admitting that he was wrong? Amazing! Let joy be unconfined!_

_She leans forward, elbows on her knees and chin on her clasped hands. "Look, Spock, it's not over. Just because I know why you did, it certainly doesn't mean I forgive you. It doesn't mean that I forgive those two, either. It's like I said, I hurt them, but not nearly as much as they hurt me. Can't you understand that? I loved Spock, and I know that he loved me, but in the end I wasn't enough. _Kirk _was more important to him. Or maybe you made him more important. _Kirk!" _I smash one hand down on the coverlet, just to me feel a bit better. "And then they presumed to know what was best for me. They were so arrogant. They couldn't let me be. They had to try to poke and pry, stick fingers into me and pull bits out that I wanted to keep in. So they've made me into this, and so have you._

"_I need time, Spock. I need to be left alone. I don't need them, even if they need me to be happy with themselves. Is that healthy at all? Maybe one day I'll be okay with them, but certainly not yet. And…I don't think I'll ever really be okay with you. But that might change, with time. Do you understand that?"_

_He nods. __"I understand, Ny-" He stops. He tilts his head. Does he have the right to call me that?_

"_That's good." He's so old, and so alone. I know what I know and I feel for him, though I wish I didn't. "Can you leave? I want to talk to Kirk. Then Spock. In private."_

_

* * *

_

_He walks in. He sits down. We look at each other. _

"_You wanted me to talk to you. All right, I'll talk. You're a completely selfish, self absorbed little prick who just can't leave things alone. You're obsessed with proving that you're right, even when it hurts other people. You always want to get your own way in absolutely _everything_._ _You're arrogant, conceited, disregarding. I hate you, Kirk. Not because you came together with Spock, although that hurt enough, but because of the way that you treated me. You couldn't _stand _that there was _one _girl who wasn't impressed by you, and you couldn't _stand _that there might be _one _person on this whole ship who didn't admire and praise your every decision."_

_I've got to get it all out. Every last drop. It's hard, though, because I've said this to spock, and now I'll have to say it to Spock again. _

"_You couldn't leave me be. Even when you had Spock that wasn't enough for you; you wanted me to be happy too, for the both of you or just happy in general. Or at least stop being _un_happy so you didn't feel guilty about what you did. And when I couldn't do that, you tried to have me transferred. For my own benefit." I look full at him for the first time, let him know what I think of that. "You weren't doing it for me. You were doing it for _you. _Why couldn't you leave me be, Kirk? I wasn't bothering you, I wasn't doing _anything._ Why couldn't you let me be?"_

_I wait for him to answer._

"_I could say it was because I didn't want you to be unhappy, but that'd just be bullshit in your eyes, wouldn't it?" He shifts. "I'm a screwup. I'm scared of what I have to do, who's ready to see me fall. I needed a friend, and Spock was there. And then he was there a little bit more. And there's you. I've seen a lot of sad people in my life, Uhura, and I've grown into the type of guy who wants to save everyone. Even if it's really stupid and I shouldn't do it and everyone'll be hating me for it afterwards, I'll still do it. I'll still try to save someone. Even if it means making them leave the place that they're so unhappy in. And I've been so angry at myself, because I kept trying but I just couldn't save you."_

"_You didn't need to save me."_

"_Maybe I didn't. Maybe someone else did. I didn't know, so I took the chance."_

"_Subtlety is not your strong point."_

"_Four years and you've finally got that?" He snorts, sobers. "Well, that's my weak ass excuse. I know how bad it is. You still hate me. I'll go now. Spock really wants to see you."_

"_Wait." He turns. This is the big one. "Look, Kirk. I said to old Spock that I don't know if I'll ever like him. The same goes for you. After what you've done, I don't know if we'll ever be friends, or I'll ever want to be. But you have to allow it to happen. You can't just grab onto me and say 'Friends forever!' because it doesn't _work _like that. Not after what you did._

"_But I'm not going to leave, Kirk, because this is my ship and if you're the captain of it, that's just my bad luck for now, but I'm going to make it better. Because I want to be here. I've made friends, even if you're not one of them. I'm making myself a career. I'm making myself back up again. And I don't need your help for that, Kirk. What I need is fucking _space. _Do you see?_

_He nearly smiles, remembers. "I see."_

_I let him get to the door before I say it. "Kirk. You don't need to worry about me at your back. And don't worry whenever we come to some world that doesn't like you, or some admiral who wants to take the ship away, or someone who gives me a better offer. I will never, ever betray you. I will never work to the least of my ability just to spite you, as I'm sure you're noticed I've been doing since this mess started. If we're in a fight, I won't abandon you because of what you did. If you were captured I wouldn't write you off, and if I had a chance to rescue you I'd do my best to get you back."_

_He looks at me, uncertain. "Why."_

_Because Spock loves you. Because I loved Spock. because that's what I have to do."_

"_Work it out for yourself, Kirk."_

* * *

_He comes in. He sits down. He looks at me._

"_Nyota."_

"_Oh, Spock."_

"_A daughter. We…you…we would have had a daughter."_

_It's still hard, even if I've been awake a bit and what happened is not so close. It's still hard to think of what came out of me as a baby. Was it even alive? Oh god, I hope not. Just the thought of feeling nothing but dark and pain – all right, I do feel something now. I feel sad. At last, I feel sad. She's gone. It was a girl, or what would become a girl, and she's gone._

"_Oh, Nyota."_

"_What's…" I can't call what came out 'it'. Her. It would have been a her. Her. "What's happened to her?"_

_He looks at her as he can't tell what she's saying, and then seems to remember. "The ambassador has made arrangements. She will be taken to Vulcan. Sarek will receive her remains, and deal with them as is fitting for his first grandchild."_

_It wasn't a child! It was a mess! But it would have been a child._

"_Her death is upon my head."_

"_Don't be stupid, Spock, it doesn't suit you."_

_His eyes are wide and darker, darker than ever. "If I had not left-"_

"_Oh, shut up!" I've never, never shouted at him before. Never! "Don't you dare think I blame you for this, you bastard! Do you think I'd lay her death at your feet? God, you really don't know me at all, do you?" He flinches, flinches away from me. "Spock, this wasn't your fault! McCoy says she probably wouldn't have lived in any case. It was just bad luck. It wasn't anything that you did."_

_He's crying now. Not as a human cries but as a Vulcan does. Vulcans do cry. His eyes are wet._

"_Our daughter." He would have called her some form of Amanda. I know he would have._

_We sit together._

_Our baby._

_He's calmer now, He still is in my presence. Can't imagine why._

"_Has Spock told you what I told him?"_

"_Yes. Yes, he did." _

"_What do you have to say to that?"_

"_I…I do not have the words. This is all emotion. I was never good at it."_

"_Oh, you were."_

_It's always been worse, with him. Kirk I never liked much, but he…how could he? And with _Kirk?

"_I can't forgive you, Spock." he looks at me as I'm sure he looked at his mother when he was little, when she said something that was illogical and yet true. "I just can't." Just like I can't ask him if he would have come back if our baby wasn't gone, or how he thought it was acceptable to do this to me._

"_Will you ever?"_

_I _want _to say yes. I want, I want so badly, because he was my friend and I loved him and now he's…I cannot tell a lie. Not to him._

"_I don't know, Spock. I really don't know._

_He nods. "That is a better option than never."_

_He gets up to leave, in his turn. At the door, he turns. "I…ventured to inscribe a name in the funerary urn, when I commissioned it." That arrogant…but she was his daughter too. "I…T'Amanda."_

_Oh god, what's Sarek going to think when he gets the urn?_

"_That's a good name. Pretty."_

"_She was beautiful. She still is." I don't even know which one he's talking about any more. He leaves. _

_And I'm saved._


End file.
